


Shackled

by noellisetrevelyan



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Slave Trade, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3872758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noellisetrevelyan/pseuds/noellisetrevelyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mahdred Hawke has made many enemies, but she never thought them so bold as to intrude upon her home and take her captive to be sold into slavery.<br/>Fenris and Varric give chase, and pray they aren't to late to save Hawke from her horrific fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shackled

Her head hurt. Mahdred could feel the blood slipping down the side of her face from where her skull had made contact with the mantel of the fireplace in her home. Enemies. So many enemies Hawke has made, but none had never been so bold as to track her to her home in the dead of night and take her hostage. Carta? Coterie?

"Make sure the shackles and collar are tight!"

Slavers. If it's one group who probably hated her the most it was them. For freeing so many slaves. For single-handedly with her small band of companions destroyed their network of trade. For harboring and becoming so close to an escaped slave. She had a feeling sooner or later it was going to bite her in the ass. And now...

One of the slavers yanked Hawke up to her knees. Her head throbbed. Maker it hurt. The chains connected to her shackles and collar jangled with the sudden movement. He tugged at them to make sure they were tightly secured. There was a sick grin on his face, twisted with glee and excitement. He was taking too much delight in having captured someone as noteworthy--or notorious, depending on who you asked--as she.

"How does it feel? Best get used to it. We have someone who is paying well for someone like you. To have THE Champion of Kirkwall as their slave..."

Mahdred spat in the man's face, which was rewarded with a swift kick to the ribs. She doubled over, hacking, breath leaving her lungs. Not the wisest thing she could have done. But she wasn't going down without a fight. Not to these bastards. She was never good at minding her manners and keeping her lip buttoned.

"I...am no...slave..."

She gasped, sputtering, trembling. She was cold. She hadn't realized until now that they had striped her of her clothing. She wore nothing but the steel collar and shackles. They somehow felt very heavy and burdensome. They carried the weight of every slave she couldn't save and every slaver that slipped from her hands. She would wipe them all off the face of this world and into the merciless arms of the Maker if she could. But she knew when she was defenseless. With no blade and her armor discarded, there was little she could do to get out of this predicament. She was powerless. Mahdred's head leaned forward to touch the cold stone ground of the cave she was stowed away in, praying that someone would sooner rather than later realize she was missing. How could she let this happen? How in the sodding hell did they manage to take her from her Hightown estate without a single witness?

"Time to do a little breaking in, don't you think?"

The slaver who had kicked er moments ago was now looming over her, a riding crop in hand. Mahdred didn't like the look on his face. She tensed, preparing for the merciless beating to come. And in that moment, all she could think about was Fenris. How he was in this position not too long ago in his past. How he endured through it all and escaped. She too would endure, until help arrived to steal her back away from these cruel men; if help could come before they sold her to her new...master.

"Fenris..."

\------------

"Maker's breath..."

Varric glanced around the common room of the Hawke Estate. Furniture was splintered, and there was blood. Blood the dwarf wished belonged to the attacker, but he knew better, as much as it made his heart sink. Though with how much of it there was, Hawke probably went out kicking and screaming. Put up a damn good fight considering the fact she likely in her robe and her sword was stowed away for the evening.

"I...I'm sorry, that's all I know..."

Varric walked over to the two elves talking in the corner of the room. Orana had been locked in one of the adjacent rooms, the slavers promising they'd return to deal with her later. They were far too keen on successfully capturing their prize to pay her much mind. Fenris was tense and on edge, ready to bolt after the bastards who dared come to claim Hawke and take her away from him. He knew something didn't feel right. But Mahdred had been so reassuring. She told him not to worry, and bade him good night. He returned to his mansion and spent a restless night pacing about. He should have gone with her. Come now, Fenris. You see danger in every corner! I can handle myself!

"Come on elf, I know what you're thinking, and it isn't--"

"Don't Varric."

Varric raised his hands in resignation, a frustrated huff escaping his lips. He was just as angry as Fenris, but he knew going after these men without some sort of plan was going to get Hawke and themselves killed, which wouldn't make out to be that good of a rescue. Orana let out a terrified whimper, wringing her hands as she looked about anxiously, as if expecting the men to barge back in to the estate any minute.

"They...they're going to come back for me, aren't they? They...they'll make me a slave again..I...I don't--"

"They will NOT! Go to my manor and stay there until we return. Aveline? Escort her there?"

Aveline had lingered at the doorway, jaw set with anger. These damn slavers just wouldn't give it up, would they? She's uprooted their operations within Kirkwall time and again with Hawke's aid, but where there are willing buyers there will be those willing to sell. Anything for easy coin, and there are plenty of people willing to turn a blind eye.

"That I can do. I'll send a small company of my best men with you to--"

"No, too many people. Varric and I will go alone. I have an idea where they're keeping her. We have to cut them off before they flee where we can't reach them."

"Understood. Orana?"

Orana gave Fenris a small bow before shuffling to Aveline's side, the pair departing the estate to leave Varric and Fenris with the desecrated, empty space. No words needed to be exchanged for them to know what the other was thinking.

"We'll find her, Fenris. Hawke's a strong woman. She wouldn't let them break her."

"And that's what I fear. I know these sorts of men. They welcome a challenge."

"Well, then we best rescue our 'damsel in distress' before she gets herself into too much trouble."

\---------

"I had hoped that my new property wouldn't be so...damaged upon retrieval. I can assume she isn't a particularly pliant sort?"

Mahdred shot a murderous look to the magister speaking with her captors, her entire body aching. A few broken ribs at least, too many bruises to count, lacerations where her skin broke. Everything felt wrong. He body ached from the injuries, she was feeling the intense desire for food and proper water (that wasn't lapped from the cave floor), and the bone deep fatigue that came from her captors denying her sleep. However if there was one thing that seemed to speak the loudest of her suffering it was how bitterly cold she felt. It went beyond shivering and beyond feeling. She was starting to feel hollow, empty, and completely numb.

Footsteps. Closer to her. The magister. He loomed over her, eying his prize like some giddy child.

"The Champion of Kirkwall...you'll be happy to know just how any sovereigns you're worth."

"Oh? I'd hate to bleed a magister's coin purse dry just for little ol' me."

A swift slap to the face. Her cheek burned hot, red. The stinging left her reeling. Hot hand on cold skin. She was almost thankful her skin was going so numb. The stinging ebbed away fairly quickly.

"Did I ASK you to speak, slave?"

A coy smile pulled at her lips. Mahdred was having none of it. For however much she may be suffering in body, her resolve remained intact. She refused to bow to people so depraved. She wouldn't give them the benefit. There was plenty enough time to break when she was safe in her own home, perhaps with a shoulder to lean on. She had to keep telling herself this. Just a little longer, and she would be liberated. Just a little longer, and they would find her. Maker let them find her in time.

"How many times do I have to tell you BASTARDS that I'm NO ONES slave?"

Another slap, the magister then yanking the chains to force a tired Hawke to her feet. She could barely stand, wobbling weakly. Perhaps she wasn't even standing and the magister was the only thing keeping her upright. The collar dug into her neck, biting into her skin.

"You WILL learn to curb that tongue! Or, I could simply cut it from your pretty little mouth."

"I'd...love to see...you try."

The magister snarled, pulling a knife from his belt. Mahdred gave it a wide eyed glance, making a feeble attempt at pulling away. Shit. Too far. She REALLY need to learn to keep her mouth shut.

"You'll learn your place you little BITCH!"

One of the slavers cried out, and both Madred and the magister looked up in surprise. A bolt jutted out of the man's chest, lodged precisely between the spaces in the ribs dead into his heart. He turned to face them, then collapsed in an unmoving heap on the ground. Hawke smiled in knowing and relief. That sly dog.

"I don't think either you or the slavers could handle the price of dealing with such a high risk slave."

Varric stepped out in the dim light of the cave, fury in his eyes, but that humorous look was ever present on his face, trying to keep things somewhat light for the sake of Hawke's sanity.

"Damn it all, Hawke, you really know how to throw a party."

"Best damn parties in K-Kirk--"

"ENOUGH!"

The magister pushed Hawke to her knees, holding the tip of the dagger at the base of her neck. Varric held Bianca in a neutral position, prepared to raise and fire at any moment, but trying to simmer down this rapidly escalating situation. This rescue mission could end up a body recovery mission if he wasn't careful enough.

"Either you turn on your heel and leave, dwarf, or I'll sever her spine in two.I'd rather protect my investment, but I have no qualms with throwing away something so disposable to save my own skin."

"Don't...you...dare..."

Fenris. By the Maker his anger was almost a comfort given her current position. Mahdred glanced up to see Fenris step in the light behind Varric, the rage contorting his face into something most closely described as bestial. It only intensified to see his beloved in chains.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Danarius' little pet..."

"I AM NO ONE'S PET!"

Fenris made to lurch forward, eager to squeeze the life out of this foul man, but was halted when Mahdred cried out, the knife biting into her flesh. She closed her eyes and grit her teeth, shaking rather pathetically in the magister's grasp. Oh wouldn't it just be her luck, to die like this? In the hands of this maniac, naked and chained, powerless, weak. She bowed her head, willing this all away. No. Strong. She had to stand strong. She couldn't break. Not now, not yet. She glanced up to Fenris, a pleading in her eyes.

_Help me_

Fenris placed his greatsword in its place upon his back, somehow sorting out a half-plan amidst the rage screaming in his head.

"Alright, we play your way."

His words were tense, guarded. He shuddered at the thought of playing nice for this shit-eating, but words not chosen carefully could bring Hawke to harm. He took a step forward, willing the tension out of his body.

"I suppose you'd think it quite the prize to have Serah Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, as your slave. An addition like no other."

"I quiver at the thought of bringing this little hero of yours to her knees, in my service. All can be broken. I've trained many slave before her and she'll be no different."

Fenris gave Mahdred a look begging her to hold her tongue. She bit hard on the inside of her cheek. Fucking Tevinter bastard.

"Since it seems you have a bit of an...unusual opportunity, why not add to your boon?"

As if the elf playing nice with a magister wasn't enough of a head-scratcher, Varric was wondering if the poor sod was just grasping at straws. But then it dawned on him rather quickly as Fenris inched just a pace closer to the magister. He was bargaining with him, leading him into vulnerability, waiting for a chance to strike him down. I'll be damned, the elf is pretty sodding crafty. This certainly did seem to pique the magister's interest, and he pulled the blade away from Mahdred. He was still on the defensive, but he simply couldn't resist the temptation. Fenris knew just where to prod. The magisters always valued their possessions and power above all, so at the very least he could coax the magister to be civil enough to hear him out on the offer.

"What have YOU to offer? You have NOTHING slave. Someone like you, will ALWAYS have nothing."

It took every measure of willpower he had to keep from blowing up on the magister. Fenris hated trying to play his little game and appease this monster, but Mahdred's life was in his hands at the moment, so careful was what Fenris had to be. Careful and hold some form of tact. He being here and knowing just how to work over the magister was actually falling in her favor, far more than a rabble of guards busting down the door would have.

"I may have no amount of possession or coin but I do have myself to offer. I'm sure the other magisters would be quite awed to see that you managed to take in your possession both the Champion and Danarius' escaped pet. A testament to your power and control."

The magister danced the idea in his head, releasing the chain at last to pace behind Hawke, who was thankful to be able to slump more comfortably on her rear. She felt tired, defeated, and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep. The cold, the pain and discomfort, were becoming far too much to bear.

"An..interesting proposition to be sure...to have Danarius' most valuable slave...that's tempting enough, but to have someone with your...perks..."

He gestures to Fenris, or rather the lyrium marks to be more accurate, and a sinister smile plays on his lips.

"Two slaves of high value and the power I could possess with you in tow..."

Fenris had inched himself ever so slowly closer to the magister, trying to keep up this charade, just long enough to come within arm's length. Oh he would take great pleasure in crushing his heart. It was a trying task, seeing Hawke so weak and defeated. She needed him, no more than ever. Just a moment longer... The magister pulled a collar he had on hand from his belt, motioning for Fenris to come forth.

"Thats a good slave. You know your place. This freedom you have tasted is a taint to ilk like you, something you can't possibly appreciate or understand. I'll look away from your past transgressions, if you'll do me the favor of doing away with your little FRIEND here. Save me the mess."

Varric shifted on his feet, finger on the trigger, ready to move should this go sour.

"I can't possibly let him go to rally allies to give us chase before we reach our safe haven. You can do that for me, can't you? Rather, you WILL do that for me."

Fenris stepped closer, closer, standing before the magister, who raised the collar towards Fenris' throat. But before the metal trap could encompass his throat, Fenris' marks flared a bright blue hue, and he slammed his fist into the man's chest, closing his hand around his heart. There was a choking sound, gasping and pleading for him to stop. Oh hearing him beg was music to Fenris' ears. If Hawke weren't in such a dire condition he might have reveled in the moment a bit longer. No, make it quick. His hand closed around the organ beating in his chest, and squeezed the life out of it, yanking his hand back out. The magister crumpled in a heap to the ground, lifeless and no longer a threat to anyone else he would claim as his slave.

"Hawke."

Fenris fell quickly to his knees and scooped Mahdred's shivering body into his arms. She felt the warmth surround her, and finally she felt safe. It hurt his heart to see her body so beaten, but that small smile was reward enough. They had gotten there just in time.

"Varric, find the keys."

"Already on it."

Varric searched the bodies of the nearby slavers, picking through loose coin and other miscellaneous items. This is not a sight Fenris could stand to see; his beloved in the same chains he had known for too long. Not her. Maker, why Hawke? He wouldn't wish this fate on anyone (save perhaps those who would will it on the unwilling), but if it's one person he had wished to save from this reality, it was his dearest Hawke. She was strong and fierce, a terror to her enemies. How could she feel so small in his arms?

"Couldn't keep your damn mouth shut, could you?"

Hawke let a small laugh escape her lips, though it almost came out as more of a whimper. Laughter jarred her broken ribs.

"Oh you know me...not good with...authority trying to tell me...what to do."

"You'd make a bad slave, Mahdred."

"I know..."

Mahdred nuzzled her face against Fenris' neck, the elf running his hand across his back. She nearly purred at the gentle touch. Varric rushed over with the keys once found, and released the collar and shackles from Hawke. The heavy weight was gone. Free.

"Fenris..."

Her voice was desperate. Mahdred clutched at his arm, shaking against him.

"Lets get her out of here...did I mention I HATE caves..."

"Oh come now, Varric...I thought y-you'd relish the idea of being closer to th-the stone."

"Joking even now...yeah, she'll be alright elf."

\-----------

_You'll fetch quite the price_

_Best get used to hurting you little bitch!_

_Fenris...please...help..._

"FENRIS!"

Mahdred lurched up in her bed, sweat pouring down her body. She was...home. In her bed. Candles lit the room, a soft and warm glow. Inviting. Home, safe.

"Mahdred..."

Fenris was sitting beside her, cross-legged, down to simple trousers and a tunic, though his greatsword was close at hand should anyone decide it was a brilliant idea to attack this place again. Hawke relaxed, sighing out softly as she flopped back on the bed. She reached her hand out, Fenris complying with the request in giving her his hand. She held it tightly, staring up at the ceiling as she felt her heart thump violently against her sternum. She could still feel the hold the collar and shackles had on her, so vivid was her nightmare. The sneering faces haunted her mind.

"I keep seeing them. I keep feeling it. Cold metal...cold stone...shivering. Cold...dark place..."

Fenris brought Mahdred's hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss to it in hopes of giving her some small comfort.

"Its a feeling I know all too well. Danarius loved to remind his slaves that they were...less than human. Such bindings were his...favorite accessory."

She tensed, an anger coursing through her veins. She could damn near envision it, and it made the rage burn anew. The same rage she felt when she saw Danarius in The Hanged Man. Sometimes she wished she could implant herself into Fenris' memories and sooner liberate him from those horrors. But there was no rewriting the past. Her mother used to tell her there were lessons to learn of the past, but what could possibly be learned from such attrocities.

"Mahdred, let it go..."

Fenris came to lay on his side, propping his head up with his hand, allowing the fingers of his other hand to ghost over Hawke's skin, trying to bring her back to the present. She was too tired to keep the anger front up long. A lengthy sigh escaped her lips, then she turned to face Fenris. He was right. She couldn't hold on to this anger. She and Fenris shared that in common. They both could hold on to rage until it destroyed them, but that's what made them so perfectly matched. Through each other, they learned to let go of anger and move on for the sake of the future. They refused to let their pasts, through struggles and losses, be the sole thing that defined them.

"I just...I couldn't imagine living like that...for so long. It was...there was such an emptiness. Such a cold loneliness that hurt and made me go numb. I wanted to lash out. I wanted to fight, but they took it from me..."

"And you wondered why I hadn't escaped Danarius sooner than I did..."

For however traumatic her experience was, it offered a bit of insight into a small piece of what Fenris experienced, and the overwhelming darkness that consumed the minds of the enslaved. Maybe now she wouldn't feel such a need to dance around these subjects or feel like she needed to walk on egg shells. In some small way, she now knew and understood.

"I...never wanted you to experience this. I should have--"

"Fenris...what did you just tell me?"

Let it go.

Mahdred stroked Fenris' face with the back of her fingers, the tense lines of his face smoothing out, expression growing soft to her touch.

"You saved me...don't fret on all of the what ifs. It happened...but I'm...safe now."

"Yes, you are...but I assure you, THIS, won't happen again. I won't allow it."

"Are you going to guard me for the rest my life?"

"Perhaps..."

In all her fuss Mahdred hadn't realized her armoire was open, and Fenris' armor was placed neatly within, along with her armor and clothing. There were also a few other odd effects in the room, such as his stash of wine bottles and tools for tending to his armor and weapon.

"Moving in are you?"

"I don't hear any objections."

No, there were none. Mahdred had offered so shortly after their reconciliation, but Fenris seemed content still to remain in his drab hole of a manor.

"So it takes being kidnapped by slavers to drive you to these silly little affections? I should keep that in mind for the future."

The glare Mahred received in return was deadly, but Fenris could forgive her THIS time for such a careless remark.

"That's your one freebie. You better not--"

"I won't, I won't...no more getting myself into reckless trouble, I promise...well, without you there anyways."

Fenris pulled Hawke close to him, taking in her scent, sweet after her long, warm bath upon their return. No, this would never happen again. Fenris would not allow Mahdred to slip through his fingers. Either the two of them faced the Maker together, or damn it all he would tear down this world to reach Hawke, no matter what far corner she was taken to. He needed Hawke, and he would gladly follow her to his very death if that's where she took him. Yes, Fenris had to grudgingly admit, he was dependent on her, as he had been on Danarius when that was all he knew. But with Mahdred, Fenris chose to follow her. He had accepted his need and would no longer deny it. So if that was construed as he being shackled to a new master, then so be it.

If finding comfort, acceptance, and love is what it meant to be shackled to your dear one for life, then maybe it wasn't such a bad thing.


End file.
